Mission Report 01

Alright. So, I had fun. Except, we all know that's complete and utter bullshite. I got to storm a proxy hideout. By myself. Now, granted there were two prisoners that were all too willing to help me bust up their asses once I freed them, but, you know, prisoners that were previously beat to kingdom come don't usually make such good fighters. I'll give them this. They had spunk. Now, I had a bit of an advantage, I was raised on guns. My dad is what lots of people would call a gun nut. I was firing BB's as soon as I could hold a rifle. Shooting a .22 once The recoil didn't knock me back (A .22's recoil is fucking pathetic by the by. So that was what, five?) As I grew, so did the arsenal. I could outshoot most of my pop's buds by the time I was Linux's age. Right now, I outshoot the old man himself, or least I did last time I saw him. Linux was surprised when he armed me and I shot straighter than him.

I shot most of the proxies in the leg or in the arms. Kinda hard to fight with a bullet wound in you. Linux says this place was a good place to stop. He's taken to researching them psychologically. Larger numbers means more research. Oh, and I only had five or so, but in an un-traversed building in the middle of some dark woods, That's plenty, even with an advantage. Our total count on prisoners is now eight. Woulda been nine, but . . . well, you know.

I was stupid, by the way. Made nice with the runners while we were still in the building, it was sorta like an office building, 'cept shorter and darker. Walked out with Mike and Rob (Their names for this blog, Linux says we don't use real ones, too dangerous. And that the person we were before died, that we aren't them. Dude's weird.) We walked out, and we were hit with the shit. He was standing there right in front of us. I didn't feel an aura, but I did smell burning skin and hear screams. I dunno, maybe I just detected it differently. Mike and Rob screamed, and we all ran. They away from it, to where I told them Linux was. I ran toward it. Shooting all the while. Gotta say, I have the worst ideas.

I still smell blood. Fucker broke my nose. Felt like I was under, like he held me under for longer than I had ever been caught. Felt like I was dying. I think it just wanted to see the panic and fear in my eyes. I think he likes reducing us to animals. I mean, look at how Med describes herself when she goes berserk (no offense.) Maybe it's just some sick game. Break the toys. I'm done here for the day. Gonna have the other two give an introductory thing later. Since that seems to be our thing.
-Keith